*"One week, and this is all you've learned? Keep going! Increase your magical output!"*
Professor Snape's voice rang out.
Dylan blinked.
At this moment, he was greedily flipping through Professor Snape's memories.
From a first-person perspective, he imagined himself as Professor Snape, experiencing the soul-infused teachings of a true Potions Master.
This was an invaluable experience—feeling the expertise of a master firsthand!
Even when Professor Snape personally guided him in brewing potions, it could never compare to what he was experiencing now.
As Dylan rapidly sifted through Snape's memories, he couldn't help but be amazed.
No wonder Snape was able to become one of Voldemort's closest confidants—his mastery of Occlumency was on another level.
Even though Voldemort's Legilimency was quite advanced, he mostly relied on the Imperius Curse to control people.
Sure, Voldemort could cast Legilimency without a wand, but...
Dylan suddenly recalled how Voldemort, whenever he was in the mood, would casually cast Legilimency on Professor Snape.
And yet, every time he skimmed through Snape's thoughts, all he saw was unwavering loyalty, absolute trust, and deep admiration.
Beyond that, there were only memories of brewing potions.
No signs of betrayal—no rebellious thoughts whatsoever.
If someone kept seeing such memories, how could they not be touched by their subordinate's devotion? How could they not trust them completely?
Even Voldemort couldn't resist!
At that moment, Dylan was watching Snape brew the Draught of Living Death.
It was the very potion Snape had asked him about last week—the "Living Hell Elixir."
This potion was an extremely powerful sleeping draught, inducing a state of deep slumber so profound that the drinker appeared dead.
During this deep hypnosis, the drinker might even see the person they most longed to meet in their heart.
Dylan raised an eyebrow.
He had never brewed this potion before, so this was a great opportunity to observe Snape's technique.
Following Snape's instructions, he increased the magical power behind his Legilimency.
And then...
*"Huh? What's this?"*
Dylan suddenly found himself seeing something—random thoughts triggered by Snape's associations while brewing the potion.
*"Is that...?"*
Dylan focused and saw a woman with long, deep red hair appear before him.
*"Harry's mom?"*
Not only did he see Snape's deeply cherished memories of Lily, but as the images shifted, he also caught glimpses of Harry's father, Sirius Black, and others.
Finally, the scene settled on Harry himself.
Dylan froze.
Even though his Legilimency was only at level seven, it was already proficient enough to unlock specialized spell training.
So, his skill was nothing to scoff at.
Of course, compared to Snape, it was still lacking.
But because Snape considered Dylan's Legilimency weak, he let his guard down.
Maybe he never expected Dylan to be only three levels away from mastering it.
As a result, Dylan unexpectedly broke through Snape's mental defenses while he was focused on potion-making, slipping deeper into his subconscious.
Honestly, this wasn't entirely Snape's fault—who would expect a young wizard to have such a high affinity for Dark Magic?
Mastering level-seven Legilimency in just a week?!
And on top of that, having a fully mastered Imperius Curse?!
Legilimency and the Imperius Curse weren't identical, but they had similarities.
The Imperius Curse invaded and seized control of consciousness, making it an even higher-tier form of mental intrusion.
Besides, even if someone mastered a spell, it didn't make them invincible.
Even with Snape's unparalleled expertise in Legilimency—perhaps even beyond the "master" level—everyone had weaknesses.
Unexpected situations could always create openings.
Just like how, despite mastering the Imperius Curse, controlling the yolk of a dragon egg infused with magic still required multiple attempts.
Different scenarios called for different adaptations.
So, even though Snape could normally fend off Dylan's Legilimency, the unique circumstances, combined with the Draught of Living Death as a trigger, allowed Dylan to accidentally break through into his deeper consciousness.
Dylan hadn't planned for this to happen.
After all, Snape had been able to fend off Voldemort's constant mental probing—how could he possibly fail against a mere student?
Yet, here they were.
This had *actually* happened.
—What should he do?!
There was only one option—*STOP IMMEDIATELY!!!*
The moment Dylan saw Harry's parents, he caught a glimpse of Snape's even darker, more painful thoughts—ones filled with complicated emotions.
There was *no way* he was going to keep going!
He instantly shut down his Legilimency!
The moment Dylan withdrew, Snape furrowed his brows and let out a pained grunt.
—That was the magical backlash from having his Occlumency breached.
His already pale face turned even paler, and he lowered his head, long black hair hiding his expression.
Dylan swallowed hard, standing frozen in place, afraid to move.
—He was already considering whether he should run to Dumbledore for protection *right now*.
What was he supposed to do?!
Compared to last week, when he had found Snape's bizarre timetable, *this* situation was far, far worse!
Last time, Snape could at least blame the students for messing around with his schedule—he had plausible deniability.
But now?
Dylan had directly invaded Snape's mind and *seen his most genuine, unfiltered thoughts*.
This time, there was no excuse.
This time, Snape had *no way out*.
This time...
He was *definitely* going to kill him to silence him, right?!
If there was any silver lining, it was that Dylan wasn't *Harry*.
If Harry had been the one to see all this, Snape would have died of embarrassment on the spot.
At worst, Snape was just *socially doomed*.
But on the *not-so-bright* side—Dylan *wasn't* Harry!
No matter what, Snape would *never* harm Harry—because he was Lily's son.
But Dylan?
Dylan had *zero* connection to Lily.
He was *so dead*.
Should he strike first before Snape could react?
The atmosphere grew eerily silent.
The abandoned classroom felt increasingly ominous, as if it were about to become Dylan's burial ground.
Dylan hesitantly said, *"Professor, just now, I—I only saw some of your potion-brewing techniques. By Merlin's nose, your skills are truly remarkable, I—"*
*"SHUT UP!!!"*
Professor Snape suddenly let out an angry roar, jerking his head up. His slightly less greasy hair fell over his face, covering most of it, leaving only his sharp hawk-like eyes visible above his hooked nose. A terrifying light burst from the gaps in his black hair.
"Get out! Get out of here!!"
Professor Snape's voice was low and repressed, echoing through the narrow, abandoned classroom. The sheer force of it made Dylan's eardrums ache.
But he didn't dare linger any longer. He immediately turned and bolted from the classroom.
There was no way he was staying any longer!
Just now, he had truly felt actual murderous intent radiating from Snape's furious roar!
Only when he finally escaped from the abandoned classroom and reached the Gryffindor common room did he breathe a sigh of relief.
Wiping away nonexistent sweat from his forehead, Dylan let out a small sigh.
"I should've known better than to ask Professor Snape to help me practice that spell!"
He already knew everything about Snape and Harry's mother—there was no need to dig into the professor's memories to find out.
And yet, here he was, having seen things that weren't recorded in either the original book or the movies. But was it worth it? Not at all!
What was the point of knowing these things?
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It was completely useless!
Worse, it had only made their relationship worse. Now, Snape knew that he knew.
"Ugh—!" Dylan let out another long sigh.
This was ridiculous!
"This isn't entirely my fault. Is it a crime to learn Dark Magic quickly? If anyone's to blame, it's Professor Snape! I was perfectly fine studying Potions, but then he suddenly insisted I increase my magical output and control. What was that about?"
Seriously.
He hadn't even wanted to come, but the professor insisted. Then, once he showed up, Snape got mad at him.
"Why is my life so hard? Little Voldy, can you come over here and discipline your subordinate? He can't just take his anger out on me every time he's in a bad mood!"
Dylan had already prepared himself to counter any spells Snape might cast at him.
It couldn't be helped—having something so personal exposed like that would make anyone furious.
Fortunately, Snape still had enough self-restraint left to let him leave. Otherwise, a full-blown duel would have been inevitable!
"Though, even if I did end up fighting Snape, I wouldn't necessarily lose—if I were willing to throw caution to the wind and use an Unforgivable Curse right in front of him."
If he could only use other high-level spells, like the Bat-Bogey Hex, the Tickling Charm, or those everyday spells he learned from Professor Flitwick,
Then fighting Snape would be a lost cause.
After all, he was just an eleven-year-old first-year wizard, and his magical reserves were nowhere near those of an adult wizard.
He simply didn't have enough power to sustain a high-intensity duel with Snape without resorting to an Unforgivable Curse.
—Otherwise, he wouldn't have felt so drained after casting just a few dozen of them before.
And that was only because he had mastered Dark Magic to its highest level, allowing him to minimize the mental toll they took.
"Dylan? What's wrong? You look really down. Shouldn't you be with Professor Snape right now, learning how to brew potions?"
At that moment, Hermione walked out of the dormitory and into the common room. She blinked at the sight of Dylan, who was sitting on the couch in a daze. She stepped closer.
Just last night at dinner, Dylan had been full of excitement, saying he was going to study something advanced with Professor Snape today.
Ron even commented that Dylan was so lucky—Snape never scolded him and even gave him personal guidance all the time.
So why had he come back looking so defeated?
Could it be…?
A certain thought crossed Hermione's mind, and her eyes lit up with curiosity. She walked up to Dylan with a gossipy glint in her eye. "Did Professor Snape finally get tired of you?"
"Huh? N-No," Dylan stammered before shaking his head. "It's nothing. I just… accidentally blew up a cauldron while brewing a potion with Professor Snape, and he got a little mad."
"Uh?" Hermione blinked.
Blew up a cauldron?
What on earth had he been brewing? A Filibuster Firework?
"Were you hurt? What about Professor Snape? Don't tell me he was standing right next to you when it happened and got his hair burned off—that's why he kicked you out?"
"N-No… No one got hurt."
—Probably.
"Alright then."
Hermione blinked a few more times and glanced toward the common room entrance.
"I'm heading to the library. I need to return last week's book and borrow a new one."
"Okay, go ahead."
Dylan waved her off absentmindedly.
Hermione stared at him for a moment, but seeing that he had no intention of inviting her along, she huffed and left on her own.
Back in his dormitory, Dylan had no idea how he was supposed to face Professor Snape the next time they met.
But it seemed that the more he wanted to avoid something, the more likely it was to happen.
Several times after class, Dylan had run into Snape in the hallways. Each time, he kept his head down and took a detour to avoid him as much as possible.
But no matter how hard he tried, there was one thing he simply couldn't avoid.
—Potions class.
When Friday arrived, Dylan was unusually distracted at breakfast—so much so that he had even slept in and only woke up when Ron and Harry did.
He hadn't been this anxious since the time he received a gift from Snape but ended up embarrassing him in front of all the teachers.
With a sigh, Dylan downed his bowl of porridge in one gulp.
No matter what, he had to face the consequences. Avoiding them wouldn't do any good.
Watching Dylan's troubled expression, Ron scratched his head.
"Dylan, what's wrong?"
Hermione glanced at him. "He blew up Professor Snape last weekend."
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"WHAT?!" Ron's eyes widened in shock. "Are you serious? That's insane!"
He immediately turned to Dylan for confirmation.
"…" Dylan's mouth twitched. "No, Hermione's just messing with you."
He would never admit this in public.
The whole "cauldron explosion" thing? That was just an excuse.
"Oh! I really thought you did something like that, Dylan—I believe you actually could pull it off." Ron straightened his back for a moment, only to slump again, looking disappointed.
Their conversation didn't catch Harry's attention. Dylan glanced at him, hesitated for a moment, and couldn't help but ask, "Harry, what's wrong with you this time?"
"You look so miserable!" Ron added. "Don't tell me you blew up Professor Snape too?"
(End of Chapter)